


The Keys to the Kingdom

by athousandwinds



Category: Sweeney Todd (2007)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-23
Updated: 2010-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-06 15:11:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athousandwinds/pseuds/athousandwinds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johanna will take what power she can get.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Keys to the Kingdom

Anthony has a key to their bedroom door.

It's such a small thing, so tiny and tarnished in his hand, and the lock falls shut with a final, decisive _click_. Johanna stares at it, oddly fascinated as he slips it into the pocket of his overcoat before discarding the whole thing. It thuds against the carpet and she wants to pick it up, to slide it over the back of the chair, she wants to steal her hand into the lined pocket and filch the key.

Instead, she smoothes the satin of her white nightgown over her thighs and notices Anthony's eyes following her, swift and half-shy. She can't catch his gaze; it moves too quickly for that. He's a little bit afraid of her, she realises, so she touches her breasts slightly. His breath is too short, that time, so she does it again and this time she's looking at his eyes when he remembers himself.

"Anthony," she says.

He swallows and says, "It's all right. You needn't worry. I know what to do."

Johanna smiles at him. She knows how to do this – she can calculate the degree of a dimple – and she knows how to move, too, like silk. Even if she's only wearing satin.

"So do I," she tells him, so close she might as well have been breathing. And she wonders who taught him.

In the end, she's the one who kisses him. She's the one who pulls him to the bed, who opens his trousers for him. He's flushed and moaning when she pauses for air, looking somehow so terribly young and lost. She did that, Johanna thinks, and the sense of power is almost overwhelming. She did that. At this moment, she can make him do anything. She's not really thinking at all, but she looks over at his coat, dumped idly on the floor.

He's straining up against her, half-desperate, and he's trying not to make sounds. It's not what a gentleman would do, grunting like an animal, or at least he thinks so. All the noises he makes are choked, cut-off, high-pitched. Johanna considers licking him, but he lets out a mewl like a cat and she knows it would be over too soon. She palms his yard and rubs it against her cunt until she finds where it's meant to go, and then she sinks down onto it. There's no blood, of course. She wonders if Anthony knows that that's not supposed to happen and if he knows what it means.

She thrusts down against him and he jerks up against her, thick and hot. She squeezes half-involuntarily and lets out a gasp – of pleasure, which she wasn't expecting. Anthony smiles at her, a bright burst of joy, and Johanna clenches around him again, breathing harder than she thought she would. He shudders against her and suddenly she can feel him spurting. She digs her fingers into his hips, surprised at the force of her intensity.

Her thighs are slick with something wet – the semen, she supposes, no one ever really explained what it was – and she considers whether she should go to the washstand and clean herself like usual, or if it's customary for a wife to bear it. Anthony is gazing at her. He seems giddy, of all things, and abruptly she remembers what she started all this for.

"Anthony," she murmurs, crawling over his body. She's prepared to coax if she has to. "May I have the key?"

"What key?" Anthony asks, squirming down underneath their bedspread. "Oh, yes. Did you want it? I think it's in my coat. Somewhere, anyway."

It's so easy that Johanna almost laughs, harsh and shocked. "You don't mind?"

"No…" Anthony says, his voice drifting on the edge of sleep. "My mother always kept copies of all our keys…"

"Oh," Johanna says. She slips out of bed and goes to find it. She unlocks the door with it, but Anthony's asleep by now, and might not even protest if he were awake. The slight breeze from the corridor touches her face, cools her sweaty nightgown on her skin, and she stares out into the darkness. It takes a moment, but eventually she understands.

_Oh. This is_ my _house_.


End file.
